


To Shelter In The Cracks With Me

by BirdyBanter



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Romance, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdyBanter/pseuds/BirdyBanter
Summary: He's got one night's leave. He needs an escape from the war raging all around him and inside him too. But has he chosen the right person to escape with?
Relationships: Harold Finch & John Reese
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	To Shelter In The Cracks With Me

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the read!

She was beautiful, long red hair and lovely blue-green eyes. A stunning woman and just what he needed to take his mind off everything. They had met early that afternoon and she was just the ticket. He needed an escape from the war raging around him and inside him as well. One night’s leave wasn’t much but he would take what he could get.   
It was night-time now and he brought the memory of her glow in day-light to mind as he leaned in to kiss her. They were under a lamppost, that was eerie because it was just a post, without the light lit. It was a wonder he wasn’t sprawled out on the pavement it was so dark, but he found her lips just as the air raid siren sounded. The lady he was with pulled back from him then, grabbed his hand and set off on a run. It was one thing to walk in the dark, he was used to it, but to run in it was another thing entirely. As fast as his companion’s high heeled shoes would allow, they headed for the shelter of the underground.

They rushed down the steps and joined a packed underground station, with people all looking as miserable as he felt and the sound of booms from above only added to the feeling. They walked past people, careful not to trip on legs and feet, in a search to find some sitting room, settling in for what could be hours. Before they made it, they were approached by an angry looking man. 

‘What are you doing Flo?’ The man said to the woman beside him.

‘Sam it’s not what-‘

‘Save it Flo, and you get lost, mate.’

His tone wasn’t one many would argue with. He thought about it and asking who this guy thought he was but after glancing at the man’s hand and the wedding ring on it. It was clear he was her husband. Her not being Sandra as she said but Flo was another give away. He had enough trouble in his life without adding this. So he held his hands up in surrender and set off in another direction to find a place to wait out the explosions. 

He made his way as far towards the back as he could get, away from any more problems, or that was the idea. By the wall he noticed a man standing but not happily. He was shifting from foot to foot. Like standing wasn’t easy for him. 

‘You okay Sir?’ He asked when he got close enough.

The man blinked at him before seeming to realize the question was directed at him. 

‘I…I’m okay thank you.’ The man said but the expression on his face told of the truth.

He moved to lean on the wall and then said, ‘Okay well I’ll just be leaning here, you can balance this way if you need to.’ He kept his voice quiet, not wanting to embarrass the man. 

‘I’m fine, thanks anyway.’ The tone was firm and he realized he wouldn’t get anywhere with this man, by trying to be chivalrous. 

‘Alright. I’m John, John Riley, it’s good to meet you.’ John offered his hand.

The other man had to shift to accept it which made John kick himself.

‘Harold…Harold Wren.’ The man said shaking his hand with a firmer grip than John anticipated. 

Harold undid his tie and wobbled slightly.

‘It is stuffy in here, isn’t it?’ John offered.

Harold nodded. Sweat breaking out on his forehead.

‘Think it’s stopped?’ John asked. It had gone quiet, not that it was any guarantee. 

‘Maybe.’ Harold said non-committally.

Harold was struggling to keep standing and John had half a mind to get one of the ignorant so and so’s around them to stand up so he could sit. But this man’s pride would not appreciate it, he could tell that much. So instead a reckless thought occurred to John. 

‘Wanna risk it?’ John asked only half joking.

The silence that met him was hardly a surprise. Any longer and awkwardness would have set in.

‘Alright.’ Harold said quietly but firmly too.

‘After you.’ John said.

Harold nodded and then started to step forward past people. He occasionally lost his balance as they made the long trip to the stairs and John had to restrain himself from reaching out to stabilize the man, by taking an arm. 

Harold paused at the bottom of the stairs. John quickly realized it wasn’t hesitancy but rather a need to catch his breath for the climb ahead. 

As they started side by side up the steps John realized how fool hardy it really was. This wasn’t like hoping the rain had stopped and risking getting drenched. They risked getting blown to bits. He didn’t feel like he could turn back now. It had been his stupid idea and a return hike back to there earlier position wasn’t something this man would tolerate. So up and out it was, John had always thrived on danger, got a kick out of it. Which was useful with the way he spent his days. Not so different from this, getting shot at or blown up. Nothing pleasant awaited him, the threat always there. But this guy was no soldier, why would he risk it. But then John could only give a vague guess to the man’s age. Perhaps he’d served in the first war, would explain the limp. If they made it out of that war alive and mostly intact, John was sure not much could phase those veterans. 

They had made it down two streets with no blasts and John was very grateful. While he’d got used to the theory of giving his life for a friend or at least a member of his division, strangers were a different matter. Even if this had been his dumb idea in the first place, he wasn’t sure he could come between this man and an explosion. Halfway down the third street the man in question abruptly stopped. 

‘Let’s get inside.’ Harold said.

John was only too glad to oblige. 

Once settled in the decently sized house, (it was big for England, no doubt but in American terms small) John was handed a drink.

‘If you can find a seat go ahead and sit down.’ Harold directed.

The room was so dark that when John sat down he had only a slight outline of the other man. Even in his reckless mood though there was no way John would think to ask to put the light on. 

‘You’re American?’ Harold asked as the silence stretched.

‘Yeah, not a problem, is it?’

‘Well there isn’t any women here for you to steal.’ It was an old joke; John had heard before but said with sarcasm and no hint of rebuke. He couldn’t tell if Harold was smiling but he was sure he heard it in his voice.

‘You’re English, and not serving but you served before.’

John thought the man might be smiling again, he hoped that was it and not silently irritated.

Harold sat beside him on the sofa.

‘What it’s not a big secret is it?’ 

‘I’m a very private man, John.’ 

‘If you’re worried about giving away your age don’t worry. I’m one of the oldest guys in my division, nearly thirty.’

‘Oh, you’re right John I feel better knowing you’re so old.’ 

This man liked his sarcasm, that was okay John wasn’t easily deterred.

‘So what are you doing now, shirt and tie man, something official?’

John heard Harold swirl the liquid in his glass. Waiting for an answer that probably wouldn’t come.

‘I could tell you my friend but then I’d have to kill you. Or at least they’d have to kill me. So why don’t we stop there and get to the real reason we’re both here, shall we?’ 

‘And what reason would that be Harold?’

‘Being coy doesn’t suit you John.’ 

‘How would you know?’ 

Harold let out a small laugh.

‘Fair point but in your line of work, I would think it would cause a few problems.’

‘Well Harold, I don’t have much of a choice in my line of work.’

‘True, but some choices are yours alone, John. So, what’s it to be?’ 

John let his hand settle on Harold’s knee. Harold soon took the hand and held on tight as he stood, pulling John up with him. He then led the way upstairs.

It had been just what John had needed. The soft bed with the quality sheets that he could easily sink into and sleep for a change, a nice bonus. Sometimes it was just easier with men. He wouldn’t have sought this out, too dangerous even for one who dove headfirst into things most would avoid at all cost. It wasn’t just that you didn’t have to work as hard, no flattery or flirting necessary. It was that you could switch off, go somewhere else. There was no need to be present or connected to your feelings. Yes, it was just what John had needed. Simple and very enjoyable. 

Harold was rustling at something at the side of the bed.

‘Cigarette John?’ Harold offered tapping his chest with the packet.

‘Thanks.’ John said taking the packet and fishing one out. 

The match came next. The cigarettes quickly lit and match extinguished. 

‘It is nice to get away for a while.’ Harold commented sounding sleepy.

There was no getting away though and John suspected this man knew that even better than he. But it was a nice thought to take with you into slumber.

It was a pleasant morning. John was spoilt with a home cooked breakfast and coffee so good it was almost like something he would get at home. He couldn’t let his mind go there, the distance so real in every sense. Instead he focused on the man across the table. He was a mystery, a pleasant one. How did he have access to such supplies? Not just the food or coffee but the cigarettes, one of which John held between his fingertips, now. He could tell now in the cold light of day they were expensive and French. And as for the house itself…

‘Please don’t ask John, it’ll spoil things and besides, you won’t get an answer that would satisfy you.’

They were standing outside Harold’s house, about to go their separate ways. Their time together had served its purpose, so he didn’t understand his reluctance to leave. He also couldn’t think of a thing to say. Those three words were always so hard for him, damn it. John couldn’t say them to people he’d been far closer to, so it was no surprise that he couldn’t say them to a virtual stranger, the only surprising thing was that he wanted to.

‘I don’t…this isn’t actually my house. But a friend let’s me stay here when I’m in town. He was working last night.’

Was that true or was Harold paranoid about letting John know where he lived?

‘But, um…I can be reached here…that is to say, any post sent here would get to me…eventually.’ 

John wasn’t sure if he was hearing what he thought he was but as he looked into the man’s eyes, he detected sincerity there. It was ridiculous, overly romantic and just plain impossible. But as he studied the man, read him, he realized he was the sort of person, who might not do things lightly, without thought but did jump in wholeheartedly once he decided on something. Yes, this man, John thought, this man would wait for me.

‘I’m not sure who you think I am, but whoever it is I’m not that guy.’

‘I pride myself on being able to judge a man’s character, it’s essential in my line of work. So I think you are what I think you are.’

‘And that doesn’t bother you?’

Harold gave him an indulgent smile. 

‘Think about the offer John.’

Harold turned to leave.

‘Would you…’ John couldn’t ask.

‘Yes, John I would.’ Harold said turning back toward him. 

A beat later he continued, ‘And my handwriting is excellent.’

’I’ll bet it is Harold.’ John replied.

But Harold was already walking down the street.

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed the fics with John and Harold set during WW2 and so I had a bash at this short fic. I hope you gugs enjoyed it!


End file.
